


Paint Me a Picture

by PersonyPepper



Series: We Love One (1) Valdo Marx, Troubadour of Cidaris [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Artist Valdo Marx, Boyfriends, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Feral Valdo Marx, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Jaskier | Dandelion Being a Feral Bastard, M/M, Swordfighting, from neither jask nor val dont worry :), homoerotic swordfighting, mentioned blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29324511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersonyPepper/pseuds/PersonyPepper
Summary: “Good job, Jas,” Valdo says with a kiss to Jaskier’s shoulder, and grabs his own short sword. He stands opposed to Jaskier, and the bard’s just barely kept from fawning over how delectable his lover looks with his thin chemise hugging his fine muscles and focus written into every inch of his face. He’s the same when he paint, and Jaskier admires him beyond words.“Focus on dodging for me, darling, no need to—” and Jaskier lunges forward, sword raised.Or, Jaskier lets his boyfriend think he's trash at sworfighting and proceeds to show his lover how very, very wrong he was in his assumption.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Valdo Marx
Series: We Love One (1) Valdo Marx, Troubadour of Cidaris [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156979
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Paint Me a Picture

“You’re going to get yourself killed, darling.”

They’ve been having this argument for _days_. Jaskier rolls his eyes and dusts off the seat of his breeches as he walks towards his lover. Evasion tactics hadn’t worked, and Jaskier resolves to seduction. He drapes himself across Valdo’s lap, arms hooked around his neck as he leans into his chest. 

“But I’ve got you to protect me,” he cocks his head and juts his lip out, the very image of cuteness, “don’t I, Val?” Valdo crooks a smile ~~_Melitele, Jaskier loves him_~~ and leans forward to press his forehead to Jaskier’s. 

“Go grab the dagger, Jask,” and he pecks a kiss to Jaskier’s lips before shoving him off.

_No wonder they say romance is dead_. Jaskier poises himself to launch at his lover and tackle him to the same dusty ground he crouches in, only for Valdo to toss him a scabbard and give him a look. Jaskier stares back, but Valdo knows he’s already won; Jaskier’s helpless to those brown eyes giving him the same puppy-eyed look. 

He sighs, unsheathes the blade, and gets into the Lettenhovian position of right foot in front of the left and torso facing straight ahead. 

Ever since the bandit attack last month, Valdo had assumed Jaskier hadn’t a single fighting bone in him. To be fair, Jaskier had let his boyfriend handle the three men on his lonesome, choosing to lounge by a tree and watch fluid muscles rip and blood splatter against dark skin. Jaskier bites his lip, biting down a lovestruck sigh at the memory. 

He adjusts his position as Valdo guides him with a hand on his shoulder and a nudge to the leg— he hums, pleased as Jaskier stands still and ready in Cidaris’ classic fighting form. 

“Good job, Jas,” Valdo says with a kiss to Jaskier’s shoulder, and grabs his own short sword. He stands opposed to Jaskier, and the bard’s just barely kept from fawning over how delectable his lover looks with his thin chemise hugging his fine muscles and focus written into every inch of his face. He’s the same when he paint, and Jaskier admires him beyond words.

“Focus on dodging for me, darling, no need to—” and Jaskier lunges forward, sword raised. 

Valdo ducks away just barely in time for Jaskier’s dagger to meet air; his lover is a skilled fighter, after all. “Jask—” and Jaskier’s forced to bite down a coo at how confused he looks. He spins, bringing the sword down again; their blades clash, hands forcing them to join in an _x_ by their knees as Valdo looks at him, head cocked just barely. 

“Bastard,” he mutters finally, comprehending. A slow smirk draws out on his face. Game on, then. 

Jaskier leaps aside as Valdo aims for his side. He’s still testing the waters, judging how good Jaskier truly is before he lets go— when Jaskier smacks him on his side with the flat of his blade, Valdo’s smirk turns devilish. How fucking _handsome_ he is, oh, Jaskier is _so in love_. He ducks into a roll as Valdo swings the blade over Jaskier’s head, the two truly parrying now. 

Oh, it’s _exhilarating; “_ Is that all you’ve got, sweet thing?” Jaskier taunts, pressing the flat of his blade against the inside of Valdo’s positioned legs. He’s pinned him twice now; Jaskier knows his lover’s still holding back. 

Valdo charges at him with a shout, ducking each of Jaskier’s strikes and jabs until they’re face-to-face, their blades crossed beside their heads. “Jaskier.” Valdo sounds _wrecked_ , panting. A bead of sweat runs down the creases of his neck, and his skin is flushed deep red with exertion.

He looks so beautiful, and Jaskier’s helpless to lean forward and press their lips together. 

Their weapons are forgotten; Jaskier wraps his arms around his lover’s neck, and Valdo’s gently untuck Jaskier’s chemise from his breeches. The trees sway over them in the breeze as they fall back into their unpacked pallets. 


End file.
